The Sinuosity of Smoke

Inhale.

Exhale.

The breath of life began it all and connects all. A breath that is insurmountable. Uncontrollable. Unavoidable. Completely and fully essential. The world lives and breathes as one. From the boughs of trees to the veins of leaves, singular.

Inhale.

Exhale.

As is smoke. A symptom of death. A sign of destruction. A suggestion of decay. Floating, dancing, living on an invisible breath all its own. A wisp of what is to come and what has been and what never had a chance to be.

Inhale.

Exhale.

The shivering band of ancestors holed up beneath rock and branch. The heat of a communal flame the only chance for life to last. Smoke twirling and twisting, surrounding and enveloping each and everyone dispelling all fear. Leaving only peace and family.

Inhale.

Exhale.

The peace offering burnt on the altar or in the pipe shared between generations and cultures. Tying all together and tearing all apart. The sack of Rome. The offering to Yahweh. The fires of Pompeii. The cleansing dance of the natives. The sacrifice in protest. The passing on into the great beyond. And yet the smoke dances. Twirling and twisting. A life of its own. A memory of all time.

Inhale.

Exhale.

How strange it is the sinuosity of smoke. At once death and life. The twisting vines. The tendrils interlacing and interweaving, mimicking the trunks of the trees they are devouring.

Inhale.

Exhale.

The dalliance of smoke. The brief but all encompassing love of smoke and life. Commingling and coexisting. Life and death. Passion and anxiety.

Inhale.

Exhale.

Is it not strange, the sinuosity of smoke?

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A Streetcar Named Desire

The lights are dimmed. Somewhere in the darkness a projector whirs into life with the regular hum-click of the sprocket teeth driving home, pulling the silver film forward frame by frame bringing the Warner Bros. shield into view on the silver screen, advancing to the title and cast of A Streetcar Named Desire starring Marlon Brando and Vivien Leigh. Though it may not be a rainy night in New Orleans; but Florence, South Carolina; or even 1951, but 2018; and though the projector is now digital instead of film, “an hour isn’t just an hour – but a little piece of eternity dropped into your hand” as Tennessee Williams wrote in his iconic play that somehow drops the viewer back in time and transforms the room into a black and white masterpiece mirroring the screen.

On Saturday, March 10th, the Florence Film society hosted a limited screening of “A Streetcar Named Desire” as a fundraiser for the production of the play What Gets Left by local, Brooke Mogy. “An avante garde drama representing feminist theatre set in present day. This play centers around a young woman, Lee, who comes home from college to find her parents have entered into an alternate reality: one in which patriarchal dominance sets the tone. From here, the audience has to sift through the chaos to understand what’s really going on in Lee’s childhood home. What Gets Left explores themes of mental health, gender roles and asks the question: what happens to the people we leave behind?”

A creative community is on the rise in Florence. One that is self-sustaining. One group hosting fundraisers to support another’s venture and vice-versa.

The Florence Film Society in itself is a group that is striving to bring the art and appreciation of film to Florence. Founders Tim Streit and Blake Gibbons dream to one day open an art house theater in Florence to further cultivate the areas artistic possibilities.

Follow them on Instagram and Facebook to stay informed about future events as well as come out to TThomas Arts on Dargan Street on April 13th and 14th at 7pm to support the performance of What Gets Left.